Opression
by Elentaari
Summary: CHAP4 UP!!! (Sorry it took so long), Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli are oppressed..What more is there to say? Rated R for language and some sexual content.
1. The Color Black

Disclaimer: I'm cheap...They're not mine…DAMNIT!  
  
  
  
Oppression: The Color Black  
  
by Elentari  
  
  
  
A/N: no flames...first angst, but I think I'll do okay...I'm a very depressed person with no Prozac.  
  
This is a very very short chapter....  
  
  
  
The Three Hunters sped across the fields toward the rising smoke and smell of orc flesh. The sky seemed to darken around them with every step they took and an unnatural breeze fluttered through Legolas' hair. He came to a halt and told Gimli and Aragorn to do so as well.  
  
"I feel something in the wind. 'Tis evil!" he whispered to Aragorn. The ranger glanced around the wheat at the puddles of blood and helms. Indeed, something was wrong. Very wrong.  
  
A voice laughed on the air. Legolas grabbed his bow; Gimli, his axe; Aragorn, his sword. The solitary voice became many…the young, the old, and the twisted. Small figures, like shadows, flickered around the three companions. Legolas shot at a figure, hitting it square in the chest. The shadow didn't bother to move as the arrow passed through it's skin, muscles, and bones without so much as a scratch, and landed in the grass a few meters behind it. The shadow was still not clear, even in the elf's vision. Panicking, the three men held their breath, their eyes darting from fleeting form to fleeting form. Aragorn would swing his sword and the blade would pass through the shadows like they were only the smoke from the fire the Riders of had made of their orc kill.  
  
"Futile!" a joyous voice boomed, cackling. With one fluent motion, the figure knocked the Three Hunters on the head. Blackness over took them. 


	2. Then There Was Sun

Disclaimer: I'm cheap...  
  
  
  
Oppression: And Then There Was Sun  
  
By, Elentari  
  
A/N: no flames...first angst, but I think I'll do okay...I'm a very depressed person with no Prozac. If you like it, give me a ring! Check my bio and my e-mail's there.  
  
Oh yeah…sorry it took so long to get this posted.  
  
  
  
All Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli could remember over the next four days was the buzzing of their heads, the migraines that pursued their thoughts, and green blurs; some incoherent language unknown to all of them. Gimli and Aragorn remembered having the strength to tug on their bindings weakly, but they could not move for the ropes around their waist, neck, and limbs were knotted too tight. Legolas rarely, if at all, lifted his head and if it weren't for his occasional cough, his two companions would have thought him dead.  
  
A few moments of consciousness. Gimli noticed a damp cloth soaking his skull and a dull drumming in his ears. He tried to open his eyes, but when he did, a large hand punched him in the ribs. He spat out some blood and his head rolled to the left, trying to ease the pain.  
  
"Aklinea! Goti shtork! Leatia! Goti horim zatoki!" a low voice called hoarsely. Shuffling feet could be heard as an evil laugh sounded through the chambers.  
  
"Ve vill see how much of a dvarf you veally are," a gruff voice said very close to Gimli's ear. The dwarf could feel the man's rotten breath creep up his neck as he cackled.  
  
Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were thrown into a dingy cellar of sorts on what they thought was the sixth day of their capture. Legolas, much to everyone's dispair, had his skull cracked open from their first meeting with their imprisoners. Gimli and Aragorn were lucky enough to only receive concussions. Legolas' head had not been cared for and a small trickle of blood ran down his forehead. Gimli peered around the cellar as Aragorn tried to awake his elven friend who had fainted once again. Large, it was, though dark and a small dirty stream ran across the other side of the room. One small window twelve feet above the floor shone light from above and the occasional chirp of a bird reflected in their ears. Gimli sighed in aggitation as Legolas was stirred into liveliness.  
  
"'Tis the end! No man, dwarf, nor even an elf can endure such torture! I would almost welcome Sauron!" he cursed. Aragorn looked at the dwarf, speechless, knowing that he agreed inside. Legolas coughed again and Aragorn fetched him some water from opposite wall, though horrible, it was.  
  
"We must endure, Master Dwarf! Do not give up hope! We still have a small amount of strength left in us to fight this evil!" the Ranger cried out encouragingly. A small rat jumped into the room from the window and landed noiselessly on the stone floor. Gimli spat at it in disgust and it hissed back at him.  
  
"Even the vermin do not bid us welcome!"  
  
"Do not…worry…This will…as all things…come…to pass," Legolas whispered hoarsely. He was having trouble breathing and his vision became like shadows. He felt consciousness slipping from his grasp. The last thing he saw before he drifted off was a small white rat staring at him from a corner. 


	3. While Their Captors Slept

Disclaimer: I'm cheap...  
  
  
  
Oppression: While Their Captors Slept  
  
By Elentari  
  
A/N: Okay, they found out about the Three Hunters' disappearance because Gandalf has secretly carried a looking glass with him for many years.  
  
1 Four Days Earlier  
  
  
  
"How do you know she'll come?" Thranduil asked worriedly. He was distraut with grief, for his only son was nowhere to be found...nor were his companions, both of noble blood. Gandalf sat patiently, waiting. He smoked his pipe, but that didn't mask the concern on his face. Indeed he did not know if she would arrive. She was…unpredictable. She could arrive with an army behind her, or she could arrive with a cloak and spring from the shadows. And the latter is exactly what she did.  
  
"I believe you sent for me, Gandalf?" a soft hiss said from the shadows called out. Nothing moved except for Thranduil, who spun toward the voice. He had obviously not heard the intruder's approach. Reflecting, the King seemed unable to find the location of the voice. It floated upon the air and faded within a nonexistent breeze. He searched with his keen eyes and saw nothing nor heard anything. He gulped quietly and Gandalf stood, looking at the tree above him. The branches swayed slightly and a small creak could be heard. Nothing. Silence.  
  
"I have. You've come precisely on time, as usual," the wizard said dismissively. He sat and Thranduil looked at him as if he were mad. Gandalf offered the King of Northern Mirkwood a seat beside him and began smoking his pipe once again.  
  
"What do you wish of me this eve? Surely, you yourself are not in danger; you would be cloaked. Then, the elf beside you seems petrified."  
  
The voice was bitter on the word "elf." She was barely distinguished as a female; her voice was more of one a serpent might have. Still, there was no telling where she was or if she even breathed. Thranduil heard nothing.  
  
"He has every right to be. Come out from the shadows, Ruma," Gandalf said quietly. He scanned the tree tops and the voice, more real this time and more feminine, cackled behind the wizard.  
  
"Who ever said I was in the shadows, old man?"  
  
A large rock began to mold and crack. The stone became a statue and that statue became a granite figure very much alive. The rock fell from around the woman, Ruma's, body. She stood, slim against the silver trees and orange dusk sky. No clothing seemed to warp her figure, but a cloak fell around her shoulders, hiding her face. After a moment of squinting (for she seemed transparent) Thranduil could make out her clothing. Skin tight and nearly not there. It was a body suit of sorts, tattoos and beads mostly. The beads and strands of necklaces, bracelets, and belts jingled as she walked forward. Ruma, when she stepped into the light, caught it in her eyes and they reflected a feline crimson red. Her smile was full of beautiful, pearl canines and Thranduil could just make out a tail swinging effortlessly behind her elevated, clawed feet. Casting aside her cloak, Thranduil gasped. Her thigh length, curly, bright red hair bounced as she walked forward, hips shifting seductively. Her ears were pointed, like an elf's, but they were blackened at the tips. Tattoos outlined her face and body (for, the elven King now saw, she indeed wore no clothing except her cloak and beads, though no body parts were apparent.)  
  
"You never cease to amaze me, Ruma. However, I hope you have more trickery behind your back. I have a very important request," Gandalf said, not phased in the least. He barely even looked up at the creature known as "Ruma." Thranduil regained his voice and spoke forcefully, which shocked him more than any.  
  
"I demand to know! What are you? I've never seen anything such as you nor do I hope to ever again!"  
  
Ruma growled slightly and turned to the King, her ears twitching slightly. She smiled evilly and sat beside Gandalf on her tail which, despite its weak appearance, was more than powerful enough to hold her weight.  
  
"I'm the lost daughter of Tom Bombadil. His eldest. Why do you ask? Do I frighten you?"  
  
"Yes, as hard as it is for me admit such a feeling of repulsion for any creature."  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment, my lord," she laughed, bowing her head slightly, but never removing her eyes from Thranduil's. He gave in and looked away, fear overpowering him once again. Gandalf sighed, standing.  
  
"Ruma, I have a task," the wizard said sternly. Immediately, Ruma seemed to soften and Thranduil, as old as he was, noticed the subtle change in her eyes as she looked at the Grey wizard standing in front of her.  
  
"And that is? I will begin to charge you a fee for my services, I must warn you," she commented with amusement. Gandalf chuckled. He reached into his robe and produced a small sack with gold and emeralds within it.  
  
"Indeed, I will pay you from now on, dear friend. And I must warn you, the task I set you on is not one you will thank me for later."  
  
"I had no doubt of that," Ruma said. Thranduil walked forward and Gandalf nodded at him. He glanced at the feline-creature beside him, waiting in the failing light.  
  
"My son and two of his companions have been captured. By what we do not know and where they have been imprisoned cannot be found by any wizard or looking glass. Gandalf has reason to believe that you could find them and swiftly," Thranduil explained. Ruma smiled pleasantly for the first time in their meeting.  
  
" He did not lie, I assure you," Ruma said in a low voice. She smiled and the elf noticed that her fangs were gone. While he had explained the disappearances, Ruma had become…human. She had no tattoos and wore clothing. Beautiful clothing. It was green velvet with golden strands falling around her body in spontaneous places. Her hair was pulled back half-way and golden earrings were in her lobes. Her eyes, violet they always were, no longer had a predatorial reflection to them.  
  
"Indeed…" Thranduil pondered, studying her. He said no words other than that for the entire time of a week, trying to figure how Ruma had changed her form so quickly and quietly that even he, staring straight at her, had not noticed.  
  
"Where did they disappear?" Ruma asked Gandalf. He stared at her, a glare that she shared with him.  
  
"Alright…I'm off. See to it that Yana is taken care of while I'm away. She's a kitten at the moment…no threat. I've instructed her not to shift unless it was absolutely necessary," Ruma told Gandalf. A small cat jumped into Gandalf's arms. Yana was, in actuality, a panther and Ruma's most beloved friend. She was the only other one that could do the things she did…only lesser. He nodded and neither spoke another word. Draping her cloak around her body once more, Ruma jumped to a tree and Thranduil strived to hear her retreat. Nothing. Silence. 


	4. Help

Disclaimer: I'm cheap...  
  
  
  
Oppression: Help  
  
By Elentari  
  
  
  
"Blast this confounded prison! Why have they not killed us or put us to slavery?!" Gimli spat. He picked up a stone and threw it to the other wall. Aragorn, now sick from lack of food and exhaustion, peered up at Gimli. They had been imprisoned for nearly two weeks.  
  
"Perhaps they wish us to die without the answers we seek," the ranger said with a raspy tone. Gimli, comforted by his friend's will to live, calmed himself and sat beside him. Legolas did not move and indeed he had not for several hours and Aragorn, despite his own health, was worried that Legolas was ill or suffering from concussion. (After all, his skull was cracked open.)  
  
"What troubles you, my friend?"  
  
Legolas didn't say anything right off, but watched a small, white mouse scurry across the floor.  
  
"This mouse. It is the only one," he said quietly, mesmerized. Gimli threw a pebble at it and it hissed, running faster to a crack in the wall. Aragorn, now realizing, turned to the elf.  
  
"It's as though it frightened the others away…that or our captors keep a very clean dungeon."  
  
"Precisely," Legolas whispered. He rose to his feet clumsily, for his head still bled freely at times and nothing had been done about it, and walked quietly to the wall where the mouse had disappeared to. When he looked closer, he saw that there was no crack in the wall where the rodent had vanished, but a small spider, clinging to the stone. He picked it up by the leg and carried it back to his companions.  
  
"What's that you have?" Gimli snapped. He was still angry, but his curiosity got the better of him as he peered over the elf's shoulder.  
  
"A spider, if that is what this being is. Are you different?" he asked the arachnid as it crawled over his smooth, calm hand. Gimli cringed and thought of what he would have done if a spider crept along his fingers.  
  
"Of course that is a spider!" a voice said from above them. Legolas stood too quickly and immediately was overpowered by a great dizziness. He began to fall, but something caught him before he hit the ground.  
  
"Who…what are you?" Aragorn asked, baffled. When the creature beside him lifted its head, he saw something that made him gasp in fright. A woman with the appearance of a goblin studied him. He reached subconsciously for the sword he knew was not at his side.  
  
"I'm Ruma, at your service. Why do you tremble? I'm not that hideous," she stated, staring at Aragorn. He gulped as her eyes engulfed him. When he blinked, he noticed that she was different. Her eyes were the same, but her body was…beautiful. She looked nearly human except for an elven face, a tail, claws, and sharp canines she smiled widely with. Her body was absolutely covered with tattoos, but what they meant, Aragorn did not know. Gimli stood in a corner, gawking at the creature who knelt beside his close friend.  
  
"Indeed, you are not…Ruma, that name is familiar," Aragorn pondered aloud. He dropped it as Legolas sat, clutching his forehead. The creature softened.  
  
"Are you alright? Here, tilt your head forward," she said quietly. With unimaginable grace, grabbed some thread and a small needle.  
  
"At our services? How? Who sent you?"  
  
"Gandalf and Thranduil, the King of Northern Mirkwood. I am here to do as you bid and get you safely away from this city," she said, deep in thought as she stitched up Legolas' head. Ruma then opened a small vile (its contents think and black) and told them all to take but a sip, which warmed their arms and legs and cleared their minds as well as their bodies of any exhaustion or illness. She sat in a corner, watching them all.  
  
"My father?" Legolas asked wearily. Even after drinking the substance he felt no change.  
  
"Yes. That must not work on your kind. I've never used it on any but men, wizards, and myself," Ruma pointed out. She walked toward the miserable elf and sat beside him, crossing her legs. Her tail flickered slightly when Gimli brushed his hand against it.  
  
"What is this?"  
  
"My tail. What else would it be?" Ruma asked, irritably. Gimli grumbled and walked away, sitting on the other side of the cell.  
  
"This substance?" Aragorn inquired, holding up the empty vile. Ruma shifted uncomfortably and looked at the ground.  
  
"My blood. It's mixed with a weed from the southern cliffs of Mordor. That must be the problem! Here, drink this," she said, cutting her arm and holding to Legolas' mouth. He looked up at her with horror. "'Tis nothing! Drink!"  
  
Legolas did drink and as he did, he grew stronger, sharper than he remembered ever being. Aragorn and Gimli watched in fascination.  
  
"Your blood? I drank the blood of another being?!" Gimli shouted. He lashed out and yelled with anger. Surely his own blood was now taunted and corrupted.  
  
"Quiet…they'll…hear you," Ruma said, sluggishly. Legolas realized that she traded their healths. He grabbed her before her head hit the ground and watched as the gash on her head (formerly his gash) disappear. Her eyes blinked open and she sat bolt upright.  
  
"How…?"  
  
"That…was not pleasant," Ruma said to herself. She shook her head as if to clear it of some dwindling pain and stood, all signs of illness or wound gone.  
  
"You…are unlike anything I've ever seen!" Legolas exclaimed, looking at Ruma with a new light. Gimli looked away, still disgusted, and Aragorn sprang to his feet.  
  
"I'm sure! Your father said, and this is a direct quote, 'it is hard to admit such a feeling as repulsion for any creature,' when he met me but five nights ago."  
  
"No! You are, without a doubt, a beautiful creature!" Legolas awed. Ruma stared at him in shock and laughed quietly. Legolas, as well, laughed for the first time in over a century.  
  
Gimli and Aragorn stood in the corner and away from Ruma and Legolas, shaking their heads.  
  
"Instant attraction," said Aragorn.  
  
"Obvious trouble," Gimli replied. 


End file.
